


Grace

by The_Problematic_Blender



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Apocalypse, Brothers, Gen, Monster of the Week, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: It’s been years since the grid went down; Trevor was just five when it happened. Ryan remembers it vividly.





	Grace

**Author's Note:**

> With this fic, a four year long chapter of my life comes to a close. I've been losing interest in Rooster Teeth and Achievement Hunter productions for a while now, so I've decided to accept this change in my life and move on to the next big thing in my life, which is apparently a DND podcast. Go figure.
> 
> I wrote this back in early spring while listening to the [theme song](https://soundcloud.com/griffinmcelroy/the-adventure-zone-amnesty-theme) to The Adventure Zone: Amnesty, and I was heavily inspired by it and Monster of the Week. (I write this like it's a novel and not a 700 word writing jack off). Regardless, it's a rather original idea in the fandom, far as I can tell, and I wanted to share it so hopefully someone can bring this idea some justice.
> 
> From now on, I'll probably only be writing TAZ fics. I will not be updating any chaptered rtah fics, as if I did, it wouldn't be work either of us would enjoy as much. If someone wants to pick up where I left off on any of them, you have my explicit permission to do so.
> 
> But anyway, please enjoy my final RTAH fic. It's small, but that's usually how I roll.

Ryan takes a deep breath, watching the deer that was trying to forge for any food that the winter frost hadn’t killed. It was a couple yards away from Ryan, it’s back to the man. The cold winter wind blew into his face; a harsh, bitter cold stinging his skin. It was the cost of hunting downwind, but that cost promised the payment of a healthy looking buck, albeit it was a little on the scrawny side. Regardless, it was untainted, and it would feed everyone at the camp for a day or so.

Ryan notches an arrow, slow and careful to avoid making any sudden noises. He aims for the buck and waits. Waits for the perfect moment. Waits for the biting wind to cease and the buck to turn and expose his side to him. Another slow, deep breath fills Ryan’s lungs with cold winter air before he exhales it as a warm gust. The buck tries to dig some roots up with its hoof, giving a little snort. It moves to get a better angle, giving Ryan the perfect shot. One last deep breath; cold air in, warm air out. He steadies his hands and aims for the buck, pulling the bowstring-

“Ryan!” Someone suddenly yells out, causing Ryan to jump and let go of the bowstring, sending the air flying off course and lodge itself in the frozen ground. The buck immediately dashes off, hurrying away from Ryan and whoever just yelled.

Ryan violently exhales, anger filling him. He stands up from behind the rock he was crouching behind and he looks behind him, seeing his nine year old brother standing behind him several yards away. His dark hair is wild, and he’s clutching a backpack in his arms- Ryan’s backpack. Ryan doesn’t need to ask what has happened. “C’mon.” Ryan says, and Trevor hurries towards him. Ryan takes his backpack from Trevor and hefts it over his shoulder. “You got everything?” Trevor nods in response. “Alright, let’s go, quickly.”

It’s been years since the grid went down; Trevor was just five when it happened. Ryan remembers it vividly. With the grid down, the Malgs could easily break through the walls and ravage towns and cities. Florida was gone in less than a week, and the rest of the country soon followed suit. People were afraid to go outside their homes, but that didn’t keep them safe. Ryan remembers seeing the Malg that tore through the wall of the kitchen, the pungent smell of dead animals filling the house as it’s jaws dripped with black ooze. The image of his father being quite literally torn apart was burned into his head before Ryan quickly hurried upstairs, scooped up a tiny Trevor, and took him to hide in the attic. They were up there for days, waiting for a moment when there wasn’t an unearthly quiet from the outside, all the animals hiding from the Malgs as well.

Since then, it was just the two of them. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. They occasionally found groups of other survivors that they joined with, but time and time again, it proved to be more dangerous. They made more noise, they made a stronger smell, they were easier to trace, and eventually, they didn’t do much to kill the Malg that kills everyone in the group. Trevor, being small and having been taught by Ryan what to do if a Malg found their camp while Ryan was out hunting, could easily escape without being noticed while the Malg was distracted by the adults trying to kill it.

“C’mon, Trev.” Ryan said when he noticed Trevor dragging his feet through the snow with exhaustion. “Just a few more miles and we’ll be to the next town.” Being in the forest after dusk was a guaranteed death sentence, and with the sky starting to change to shades of purple and pink, they didn’t have much time.

“ ‘M tired.” Trevor replied.

Ryan sighs, pulling his backpack off his back and putting it back on, but this time on his front. He crouches down, looking back at Trevor. “C’mon, I’ll carry you.”

Trevor accepts Ryan’s offer, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s neck as Ryan scoops Trevor’s legs with his arms and stands up, essentially giving Trevor a piggyback ride. Trevor was getting too heavy for this, hell, he's turning ten soon, but Ryan couldn’t worry about that now.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave a kudos and comment down below; I still appreciate those.


End file.
